


and there's nothing that can keep me from you

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Death, Happy Ending, M/M, Overdose, TW: Suicide, angst???, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They could do it. As long as they were together.</p><p>They were Michael and Gavin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and there's nothing that can keep me from you

**Author's Note:**

> um someone in my family died so i wrote this on a whim
> 
> yeah 
> 
> tell me if I made any mistakes (pretty please???)

Gavin had spent too long being sad. He'd spent too long curled up under his sheets doing nothing more than cry. Eventually he ran out of tears and sadness and it simply left a hole in his chest that he yearned to fill up. He'd accept any kind of emotion at this point.

For a while, he let himself be empty. Somedays it seemed better than sadness. Other days he'd curl up under his sheets again, and desperately try to recall the tears, but his eyes stayed dry. 

Ray started visiting again. He was looking worse than Gavin could remember, but he tried to remember that the other male had lost a lot also. Where he lost a lover, Ray lost a best friend. He supposed he probably didn't look much better. But when his friend held up a video game in one hand and in the other he held a case of red bull, Gavin couldn't deny the smile that threatened to make an appearance on his face after so long. Ray caught him smiling and returned it with one of his own. It was looking a little grim. And then there was no stopping the hysterical laughter that bubbled in their chests, so they laughed until tears were wetting both of their cheeks. It was no surprise to him when he got an armful of the other male, whose laughter had turned into quiet sobs that made Gavin's heart ache in sympathy. Calming down was difficult, but it happened surprising fast. Ray pulled his face from his shoulder and plopped down next to him on the couch. They grabbed the controllers and played until they couldn't remember why they were sad in the first place.

It had seemed only a temporary distraction, for the moment Ray was gone, Gavin could feel himself sinking back into emptiness. Happiness had been short lived, feeling good while it was there but leaving him with dry eyes and a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered vaguely what it felt like to be happy -- he had always been overflowing with happiness, affecting all the others around him, but that was just a distant memory now. 

He went through all the emotions, none of them staying long enough to distract him from the throb in his head that had become a permanent inconvenience. He'd done it all to try and feel again: he'd gone to bars and drank himself silly, but the aftermath of that was worse than the distraction it gave him. He tried a single one night stand with some girl that hadn't even bothered to learn his name. He woke up that morning and found himself sick to his stomach as he thought of the girl's lips against his own. 

Nothing seemed to be enough.

Months had passed and he still had nothing. He was grasping at air, his fingers finding nothing to grasp onto. 

It was a Sunday evening when he felt it. He was sitting on the couch that had been through so much for the two. It was where they sat to play video games and curl up together, and it was where they ended up if they were too drunk to manage the trip up the stairs. That's when he felt the twinge inside of his chest. 

He'd felt anger before. Like that time he lost all the footage for a video -- he was angry. Or that time when Michael's father (god, he hated that guy) told him that he and the rest of the guys were not invited to the funeral. They went anyway, but that didn't change the anger he felt then. But this was something more. This was pure, unadulterated rage. It was something he'd seen flash across Michael's face before, but it was never something he'd experienced before. 

He had not expected it to be painful. He'd not expected the need to grasp at his chest and gasp for breath. He had definitely not expected need to grab at something, at anything, and destroy it. It happened to be a picture frame, but Gavin didn't even stop to see what picture it was before he threw it. The crash against the wall was unsatisfying, so he grabbed more. Anything that he could lift, he did. 

It was over in no time. The object in Gavin's hands dropped, crashing into the ground but not breaking. He slumped over, fell to his knees in the middle of all the debris. 

The rage was gone, only to be replaced instead with a minor anger. Irritation. It was as though some annoying little kid was poking him, but he couldn't smack them away for fear of looking mean. It was like the whole thing was an inconvenience to him. Which it really was, if he thought hard about it. 

If he had never met Michael Jones, he wouldn't have become friends with him.

"I hate you."

If he had never become friends with Michael Jones, he would have never started to get close to him. He would have never spent countless hours playing silly games and talking to each other about nothing that was even remotely important. 

"I hate you." His voice caught in his throat. Somehow, tears were forming in his eyes. 

If he had never gotten close to Michael, he wouldn't have fallen in love. He wouldn't have felt his heart flutter every time he caught sight of the precious freckled face in a crowd. There'd be no Michael and Gavin, there would be no girls going absolutely mental about their relationship. Michael would be Michael and he would be Gavin. There'd be nothing more for the two. 

"I hate you so much, Michael Jones." 

But if he had never met Michael Jones, he would just be plain old Gavin Free. 

His hands shuffled around the debris, finding pictures amongst the shattered glass. He picked them all up, and held them against his chest. He tried so hard to not look at them.

Gavin gave into temptation and flipped the first picture over. It was one of him and Michael, probably their first date. His curly haired lover had a hand up to block the camera, but it was still obvious that they were kissing behind his hand. 

A choked sob escaped his throat. He turned the photo back over. 

"I love you." 

He'd said the words before, almost every day. It felt wrong saying it to an empty room. 

He walked away from the photos. He went up the stairs, though his knees protested weakly. When he got to the little hallway at the top, he peered into the room on the right. It was the room Michael and he had shared, and it was the one that he'd been sleeping in the months after his death. But he didn't head that way. Instead he went to the room on the left, a guest bedroom that had been done up for years but had never been used. 

He went in. The room was completely dark, and the cold sent shivers down Gavin's spine. He trudged over the bed, each step heavy and unwilling. When he reached the bed, he pulled back the covers and got underneath them. They were stiff and uncomfortable, unlike the ones he had in the other room. He refused to get up, despite how they called for him. 

Falling asleep was easy, when he allowed his body to sag against the mattress. 

 

When Gavin was awoken, it was still dark. At first, he couldn't tell what woke him. So he went to investigate. He crawled out of bed, slowly making his way to the door of the bedroom. He gripped the door knob and pulled it open -- only to find Michael standing outside the door. Well, it wasn't really Michael, but more like a figment of him. 

Gavin's eyes were wide, but he reached out anyway. He could feel it, Michael's soft skin under his palms, but then the thing was scooting away from him. He could almost hear that familiar devious giggle to go along with him.

He was crazy. Gavin Free had officially passed the point of sad and was now completely mental. Michael Jones could not be standing outside his bedroom door. 

But he was. Gavin couldn't pretend that he wasn't excited to see him, even if this was some horrible dream or his imagination. 

Because there he was, at the top of his stairs now. He was signaling Gavin to follow him with one finger. A smile was spread across his face and his cheeks were a light pink color, and Gavin could swear he was alive. He followed him after the male motions became more rapid. The two of them went down the stairs, and past the living room, where the floor was still a mess. They made their way into the kitchen. 

Michael turned around at that moment, russet eyes full of mirth and something else he couldn't understand. The male was pointing at something, Gavin's eyes followed his gaze. There on the counter next to the stack of pictures was a bottle. Two bottles, actually. One was of sleeping pills he had been prescribed by his therapist and the other was a beer bottle. He wasn't sure how it got there, but he didn't ask any questions. He knew exactly what Michael wanted. 

So he twisted off the cap with fingers that didn't quite do what he wanted them to do. He let one pill fall out into his palm. He looked up at his lover, who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. He let another drop. And then another, until the whole rest of the bottle was sitting there on his palm. He took the beer bottle which he'd opened beforehand. 

His lover gave a firm nod when he glanced over for a second time. He wouldn't deny his boy what he wanted. So he tilted his head back, and let the pills fall into his mouth. He chased them down with beer. And he drank from the bottle until there was nothing left. 

Gavin felt Michael's hand on his arm. No, that wasn't right. He couldn't actually feel him -- it was more like he could see his hand on his arm and imagined the feeling. His boy led him back up the stairs and into the room on the right. He laid down, and if he could have, he would have pulled Michael in with him. But instead, he gazed blearily at him, until his visioned darkened and he fell asleep.

The last thing he saw as Michael.

 

And in the morning, Geoff was the one who showed up at his house. He scoffed at the mess and stomped up the stairs. He planned to drag Gavin downstairs to force some food into him and to clean up the mess. What he saw he hadn't been expecting. When he pushed open the door, he was greeted with the sight of Gavin's face down in the pillow. He stumbled over to him, checked his pulse and vital signs, but found none. He dragged the male into a big hug, though it brought him no warmth. It was cold and still, and the feeling of the one sided hug brought the older man to tears. 

And Michael and Gavin were looking on the scene, watching as their boss broke down over the dead body of his proxy son. If Gavin had any fleeting feeling of guilt, it was all washed away by the feeling of his lover's hand grasping his own. 

Gavin had to turn away from the scene, because he couldn't let any of the sadness of his life slip into the happiness of his death. Michael understood and turned away with him. 

It was easier to walk away this time. They would miss their friends, and there was no doubt they'd miss being alive. 

But it was as they had always said, 

They could do it. As long as they were together.

They were Michael and Gavin.

**Author's Note:**

> the ending turned out really meh so


End file.
